Conversations with Death
by Gale
Summary: An odd look at the afterlife, as percieved by the most unlikely of Marvel's creations. More chapters will be added. The first is short for a reason, and confusing unless you give it more than one look. It's also a beta, unrevised. Comment if you can.
1. The End is the Beginning is the End

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Conversations with Death

*Written by Gale*

Disclaimer - The character isn't mine. I take some artistic license, but I take no credit for the conception of the character itself. The credit goes to Marvel Comics. 

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Chapter #1: The End is the Beginning is the End

Time was always a precarious thing for me. Without a body, even one that treaded the eons so unmarked as my own had been, I began to wonder if it existed at all. That was the ironic thing about Death. Once, when I was very young, and still very stupid, I catered to the belief shared by my surrogate father's people -- that people who die were to carry on to a "next life."

When several millennia had passed, and I turned to look back on all the illusions that were stripped away from my being, I no longer held to that thought. I am not even sure when it was that it left me. I never stopped to wonder of that -- not until it was too late to speculate. All I know is that I have seen little proof of reincarnation, or even divinity beyond myself. Of all the faces and names I can recall, I have never once seen their familiar shine after expiration. Even that of my mentor. 

There is no afterlife. 

There is the beginning.

The end.

There is me. 

Apocalypse. 

Then why am I still here?

Why, when I reached the end, when I knew it was over, when I ceased to exist, did I begin to stop and think, _How long has it been over **now? **_

If the end has already come, then Apocalypse has come and gone. Who am I, then? Am I still En Sabah Nur? _(…How long has it been since I called myself that?) _Am I anything at all?

Surely, I must be. I would not be able to ask it if I were not. Do I have a body?

No, I lost that long before I reached the End.

As it is, I am beginning to think that I do not much like this idea of just _being. _Asking myself these questions are doing little save confusing me. I never much adored _that _even when I still had logic wires in the brain that could cross. 

…My thoughts certainly made a great deal more sense when I had something tangible to store them all in. 

I have come to one conclusion: _just being _is not working out all too well for me. So I call myself En Sabah Nur, at least until a better name comes along. I am not so sure it is that easy to leave behind, not as easy as Apocalypse. I was The First One once. It is only fitting that I hold onto the title now that I'm beginning again. At the end.

There I go again. 

It is at least pleasing to know I have not ceased to exist. At least, I _think _I have not stopped existing. Would I be able to if I did?

Damn it. I am beginning to wonder if earthly philosophers willingly became martyrs or not. I, for one, would relish having rocks thrown at me if it meant my head hurt due to some _outside _anomaly. Then again, I don't have a head anymore. 

Stop it.

Well, I know I exist. I must. But then, where did everything else go? 

…Not that I need anything else. 

I do not think I understood the concept of sheer boredom until now. Such are the drawbacks of being alone.

But no, this is different. Even as Apocalypse, I could busy myself even when not in the company of others. I still had things around me to occupy my attention, and when nothing interested me, I slept. Even then, I dreamt or I was not aware of the passage of time at all. Either way, there was always _something _to keep me from the contemplation of such disconcerting and, in the end, pointless thoughts. Here, there is nothing. _Nothing. _And I am painfully aware of it.

So what I need is a distraction. My will guided my needs in life. I have only to see if that holds true in death as well. When I am only En Sabah Nur. 

So that should be all that is needed. 

I want something to happen. I want someone to talk to.

I want…

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TO BE CONTINUED…


	2. The Illusion of Perception and a Guide

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Conversations with Death

*Written by Gale*

Disclaimer - Same goes. This will develop into actual prose once my muse is able to do that. Don't understand? Read on and you might.

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Chapter #2: The Illusion of Perception (and a Guide)

"You are new."

No. I'm not. I've always been here. You just couldn't see me until now.

"Why now?"

Because you wanted to see someone, Nur.

"Do I know you?"

You might. Concentrate harder. Look at me again.

"How?"

Has it not occurred to you that this is all in your mind, Nur? If you wish to perceive something, you will. 

"There is nothing here to see. I have no eyes to see with."

Only because that is what you want. Dealing with nothing is easier for you. That will change with time.

"Time?" 

Yes, time. It did not cease to exist when you left your body, you know. I know you thought it had. But time, when taken down to its most basic form, is progression. In the state you are in now, it can only be measured by your own memory. By what you have done. You have done very much -- too much, in fact. That is why it is so difficult for you to move forward. When you stop thinking there is little that you have not already done, you will begin to see again. 

"Who are you?"

I'll humor your questions because I understand it is simpler for you to focus on something other than yourself right now. I am merely a guide. Everyone sees me, eventually, before they move on.

"How long has it been?"

See, that was what I was talking about. You're still trying to measure in the case of minutes, days, years, centuries. 

"As you said, it is what I am comfortable with." 

Very well. To a human mortal's perception, it took you about three hundred years to become self aware after dying. Felt like a lot less, didn't it? It would do little good, as well, to tell you that we've been talking for only a fraction of a second, by human standards.

"That is impossible." 

Not as impossible as you think. I told you, time is measured only be deed here, not by science and cycle. As you said before, there is nothing here. Observation can only be made by frame of reference. Here, you have no rising and setting sun, no spinning earth, no waxing and waning moon.

"Where are they, then?"

Oh, somewhere. When you see them again, you will.

"That goes without saying."

Oh no. That's where you are wrong. Nothing exists without having been thought of first. I imagine that's confusing.

"Frustrating seems a more fitting word."

That's good. It means you are learning something. Which I daresay you have not done in a very long time.

"Very well. How do I begin to _see?" _

Simply admit that you can.

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TO BE CONTINUED…


End file.
